


The Good, The Bad, and The Misguided

by EmeraldOcean



Series: Hunters and Heroes [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Come Marking, Cowboy Dean, Dirty Talk, Episode: s06e18 Frontierland coda, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Facials, Flirting Dean (no infidelity), Gentle Dom Castiel, Hair-pulling, Handprint Kink, Jealous Castiel, Language Kink, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Orgasm Delay, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Castiel, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Rough Sex (not too rough though), Sub Dean, Top Castiel, cas speaks Spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:49:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldOcean/pseuds/EmeraldOcean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is getting sick and tired of competing with Heaven for Castiel's attention. He knows that the angel is busy fighting his big brother in a grueling civil war, but he thinks that their return from Sunrise, WY in 1861 is the perfect opportunity for some exciting couple's time. </p><p>Apparently Cas has other ideas though and Dean is left by himself, all dressed up with no place to go. Flirting with a handsome stranger in front of one very nosy brother results in incurring the wrath of one very possessive celestial being. </p><p>Will Dean finally receive the attention that he's been craving?    </p><p>[Next installment of the Hunters and Heroes series. It's not strictly necessary to read the other two to understand this one, but it may help to read the first to get some context. It can work as a stand-alone though.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good, The Bad, and The Misguided

**Author's Note:**

> The longer, multi-chapter work will be coming soon! I've already started outlining and I'll be working on the first chapter in the very near future. In the meanwhile, I hope this will tide you over! Enjoy! 
> 
> The Spanish translations are located in the end notes. 
> 
> Btw, "Blondie," "Angel Eyes," and "Rat" are characters from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." Please excuse the gratuitous amount of western movies references. I couldn't help myself. ;)

“It means we take the fight to her.” Dean places the Cowboy hat on his head, sliding the soft brim through his thumb and forefinger. He doesn’t care what Sam and his bitchface says, Dean looks damn good in his authentic western gear. Ok, _maybe_ he had been a bit overzealous before they went back in time to 1861 – he can admit that the serape may have been a bit much. But now he’s decked out in actual clothing from the past and he can safely say that Clint Eastwood’s got nothing on Dean Winchester. 

He flashes Cas a lopsided grin and a charming wink, which unfortunately the angel doesn’t seem to appreciate. Sam and Bobby also appear unimpressed but that’s to be expected. He was hoping though that Cas would enjoy his rugged charm, at least enough to persuade his boyfriend (boyfriend? He’s got to come up with a better word to describe his relationship with Cas) to call him ‘cowboy’ while Dean rides his dick in nothing but his boots and hat. 

“Whatever you say, Blondie. But I need a good night’s sleep before I go anywhere or do anything. That soulonoscopy really did a number on me.” Bobby does look exhausted and Dean can’t blame him. He’s just glad the old man is still kicking after Cas touched him in his special place. 

“I wouldn’t say no to a few hours of shut-eye either,” says Sam, replacing the phoenix ashes in the box and closing the lid. 

Bobby and Sam start to head toward the staircase leading up to the bedrooms on the second floor. There’s a third room for Dean but what he has planned for Cas and him will hopefully get quite noisy, so he grabs his lover’s (lover? Nope, that’s not gonna work either) hand, intending to guide him toward the basement and the panic room. “Come on, Angel Eyes, tonight ‘every which way’ will include loose.” He hears Sam’s disgusted exclamation from the bottom of the stairs so he shouts, “Shut up, Rat, you’re just jealous!” 

He doesn’t wait for a response from his brother, instead he turns on his heal and starts to walk toward the kitchen and the door to the basement. He only takes a few steps before realizing that Cas isn’t following him. Spinning around again to face his man (man? Nah, too generic), Dean loses the smile and the jubilant feeling in his chest when he sees that Cas, though now standing, is looking hesitant and uncomfortable – and Dean doesn’t think it’s because of his recent physical exertion either. 

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you coming?” Dean walks back over to Cas and steps in close, looping his arms around his special friend’s (special friend? Ugh, absolutely not) waist. “I know that the cot in the panic room isn’t the most comfortable place, but Bobby and Sam will pitch a fit if they have to hear us going at it upstairs.” Cas gently removes Dean’s arms from around his waist and steps back, putting a bit of distance between them.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I have to leave.” Dean sighs and balls his hands into fists by his sides, the frustration and disappointment that have been his constant companions since Team Free Will’s return from the Avenger’s universe welling up inside him at Cas’s words. 

Their first time together had been great, perfect really. But Dean had barely had half an hour to bask in that perfection before Cas was off – back to Heaven and his damned civil war – leaving Dean alone and feeling somewhat jilted. In the short amount of time that they’ve been back, and the even fewer amount of times that they have gotten the chance to be alone and be intimate, Cas has been there one moment and gone the next. The last time Dean had almost blurted out for Cas to leave the money on the dresser before he left. But while it had been a bit ‘wham-bam-thank you-man’, Cas had at least never actually turned him down. 

“You’re leaving?” When Cas just nods his head, Dean sighs again and scrubs a hand down over his face. He’s tired too, he’s been up for two days straight, but he feels that it’s important to press this issue.

Cas had been so adamant about wanting to be with Dean, but the Hunter is starting to get the feeling that the angel may be regretting that decision, and if that’s the case, Dean needs to know. He refuses to allow what they have between them to fizzle out and get glossed over as an embarrassing mistake. Dean laid his fucking heart out on the line for this. If Cas wants to end it, it’s going to crush Dean. But he’ll be damned if he lets it show. 

“Alright, well that’s just fine.” He turns his back on the angel and takes off his overcoat, flinging it over the back of a nearby chair. He removes the sheriff’s badge and holster belt as well before turning back to face his fuck buddy (what? It seems about as accurate a term as any at this point). “You go and do whatever it is that you do every time you fuck off out of here, and I’ll go and do what I’m best at.” He arms himself with his usual colt and silver knife before pocketing his wallet and cell phone, lastly plucking the keys to the Impala up off the desk and twirling them around on his finger. 

“Where are you going?” Cas’s expression has turned stormy, his eyes narrowed on Dean’s face as the Hunter throws on a light jacket and heads toward the front door. Dean feels a tug on his elbow and allows himself to be spun back around. “Answer me.”

“I’m going out.” Cas looks at him expectantly, probably waiting for Dean to elaborate. Well, Cas never tells him where he’s going or what he’s doing now-a-days. Why should Dean be any more forthcoming? “What the fuck do you care anyway?” Dean’s well aware of how bitter he sounds but he can’t find it in himself to give a shit. Bitter is good, bitter is angry, and at least if he’s angry then he isn’t sad and pathetic. 

“Of course I care, Dean. I at least need to know where you are when I can’t be with you.” 

“Well, why don’t you stay here with me and then you’ll know exactly where I am?” He’s crossed the line into petulant at this point but he supposes a last-ditch effort to make Cas stay can’t hurt. 

“I can’t. I’ve been away too long as it is. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Dean.” He’s determined, Dean can tell. There’ll be no persuading the angel this time. 

“You know what? Don’t worry about it, Cas. Take all the time you need,” Dean says as he plasters on the fakest of fake smiles. It hurts. It burns like the claws of a Hellhound in his gut to know that his everything (everything? Sad and pathetic it may be, but damn if it isn’t pretty accurate) can’t even be bothered to stay for a quick hand job. But he can’t show how much it hurts. So instead of curling up in bed and crying into his pillow like the teenage girl he seems to have become, he walks out the door to head to the bar. He’ll deal with this heartbreak the Winchester way – with a bottle of whiskey. 

As he nears his Baby, the sound of the screen door opening and shutting catches Dean’s attention. Expecting to see Cas following him out, he’s instead surprised to see his brother’s gargantuan form jogging toward him. “I thought you were going to sleep?” 

“I changed my mind. I thought maybe you’d want some company…” Sam had obviously heard him and Cas arguing and decided to play the nurturing brother role. He knows that Sam means well but for some reason his thoughtfulness just pisses Dean off more.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Sam. I’m perfectly fine going out on my own.” He gets into the car and slams the door, jamming the key into the ignition and starting her up. Sam is quick to follow, slipping into the passenger seat like so many times before. 

“I’m not letting you go out alone, Dean. I’m coming with you.” Dean wants to argue but as much as he hates to admit it, his depressed state is making it hard to care. So he simply shakes his head and begins to drive out of the salvage yard. 

Sam doesn’t say anything at all after that, for which Dean is grateful, if a bit surprised. But when they pull into the parking lot of Borrowed Bucks, Sam does raise his eyebrows in a silent question as to why Dean chose this particular establishment. 

“What?” Dean asks. The country bar isn’t their usual dive – actually, they’ve never been in the place before – but Dean is feeling the need for something new and exciting. “I’m not about to let this outfit go to waste, now am I?” He’s still wearing the western outfit, down to the boots and hat. He had planned to show it off only to Cas, but since that was no longer in the cards, Dean intends to make the most of it the only other way he knows how. 

He turns to Sam in the passenger seat and clasps his brother on the shoulder. “I’m glad you came, Sam.” Sam’s eyes soften as he smiles back at Dean. “Now you can be my designated driver!” He slaps his keys into Sam’s hand and exits the vehicle, completely ignoring the bitchface that his brother throws him.

He strolls into the bar with an exaggerated hip swing, for once playing up the bow of his legs. He tips his hat and winks at a cute blonde who’s dressed in cutoff short-shorts and a thin flannel that’s tied in the middle to show off her midriff. She flashes him a dazzling smile but he doesn’t stop to talk to her, instead heading straight to the bar and ordering a double whiskey as he takes his seat. 

He quickly takes the shot and orders another as Sam slides onto the stool next to him, ordering a beer for himself. Dean orders a beer as well and scans the bar’s patrons as they wait for their drinks. There are plenty of attractive women but Dean has other plans for tonight. It’s spiteful, he knows it, but tonight Dean plans on finding a handsome cowboy to spend some time with. He’s not going to do anything with him, not really, but a little bit of flirting is just what he needs to feel better about himself. He needs to feel wanted again, and if he knows that spending time with another man will piss Cas off more than a woman would, well, Dean never claimed to be a saint.

Two double shots and one full beer has Dean starting to feel a little buzzed, nowhere near drunk but a bit warm and tingly. He finally finds what he’s looking for in a tall, well-muscled, blonde-haired, blue-eyed handsome stranger who’s sitting alone at a tall table near the pool tables. The man is shooting a small smile Dean’s way while he runs his thumb seductively up and down the side of his beer bottle, spreading the condensation around. 

Dean grabs the fresh beer that the bartender has just set down in front of him and smirks back at the man before getting up and heading his way. “Come on, Sam. Let’s play a game.” He doesn’t bother checking to see if Sam is following him. Instead he passes by the man (who happens to really remind him of Steve, now that he gets a good look at him) and winks at him before picking a cue stick off the wall and strolling back to the green-topped table. 

Sam is already there, racking up the balls, so Dean picks up the chalk and meditatively swipes it over the tip of the cue stick, looking up through his lashes at the Steve lookalike while he takes much longer to perform this step than absolutely necessary. The man turns in his seat to give Dean his full attention, leaning back in his high-backed bar stool and placing one hand on his thigh. 

The loud sound of clacking pool balls lets Dean know that Sam has started so he turns his attention to the table in time to see the six-ball sink straight into the corner pocket. Sam goes for another solid but misses, straightening up and stepping back to let Dean take his turn. Dean scans the table quickly – he could easily go around and hit the fourteen-ball into the corner pocket closest to bizzaro-Steve, but that wouldn’t work in showing off his ‘assets.’ So instead he places himself so that his back is facing the stranger and leans over the table to aim at a ball that he knows won’t go in. It’s the perfect angle to spread his legs and stick his ass right toward the man’s face though so he considers the miss worth it. 

Walking up to him and speaking lowly, Sam asks, “What the hell are you doing, Dean?” even though Dean’s sure that Sam knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“Oops, I guess I missed,” says Dean, playing coy. Dean stands close enough to the seated man so that he’s sure he’ll hear him when Dean says, “That means it’s your turn, _brother_.” Sighing loudly, Sam takes his turn, and Dean picks up his abandoned beer, licking his lips before taking a long swig, keeping his eyes on the stranger while he does so.

A few more turns go by with Dean playing awfully and Sam playing mediocre in an attempt to prolong the game and thereby prolong Dean’s presence at the table. When there’s still quite a few balls left in play though, not-Steve saunters up and leans into Dean’s personal space to ask, “Can I buy you a drink?” Dean straightens up from his most recent display and turns to look into the man’s pretty blue eyes. 

“I thought you’d never ask. How about I meet you at the bar?” The man smiles and nods before walking away, and Dean turns back to find Sam right up in his face. 

“What the hell, Dean?! You cannot seriously be thinking of sleeping with that guy. What about Cas?!” At mention of the angel’s name, Dean’s expression hardens. Cas is exactly the reason that Dean is here in the first place. It’s his fault that Dean is doing what he’s doing.

“Calm down, Sam. Who said anything about sleeping with the guy? But a free drink is a free drink, right? And if Cas has a problem with it, then he can damn well stick around for more than five minutes to tell me so!” Schooling his features back into a pleasant grin, Dean walks over to a table of attractive young women and hands his cue stick to one of them saying, “I’m just no good at this game, and my brother here…” gesturing toward Sam who’s still glaring at Dean, “… needs a decent partner. What do you say, darlin’? Could you give him a challenge?” The woman giggles and glances at her friends before nodding her head and accepting the stick. 

Thankfully Sam decides to keep his mouth shut about the swap, simply flashing a small smile at the woman before introducing himself to her. He throws a quick bitchface in Dean’s direction as he goes though, this one clearly saying, _Don’t think I won’t be watching you_. Dean just flips his brother off surreptitiously and continues on his way, sliding into a seat next to the beautiful blonde at the bar. 

“So, what are we drinkin’?” Dean asks, angling his body toward the man and placing his empty beer bottle on the bar. 

“I was just about to ask you that.” The man chuckles lightly and holds out his hand. “My name is Steve.” Dean takes the man’s hand automatically but forgets to shake it when the man’s words register in Dean’s brain. He finds the coincidence hilarious and throws his head back to bark out a laugh. 

“No shit? Well, _Steve_ , my name is Dean and I’m in the mood for some drinkin’. What do you say?” Steve shrugs a shoulder and nods his head before flagging down a nearby bartender. Before he can say anything to the man though, Dean leans over the counter and shouts, “Whiskey. Shots. And keep ‘em comin’!” 

 

Forty-five minutes and about six shots later, Dean has learned that New Steve is a construction worker who enjoys football and country music. On the weekends he likes fishing and camping, and he regularly attends a ‘progressive’ church with his ‘very understanding’ mother. The irony of the All-American Boy thing he’s got going on isn’t lost on Dean. Unlike Cap though, this Steve doesn’t seem interested in casual sex – which is actually perfect as far as Dean is concerned. Though if he isn’t careful, Dean may find himself being asked to marry the man and have his perfect little All-American babies. Ok, maybe Dean is a little bit drunk at this point. 

“So you’re a hunter?” Steve asks, and Dean’s stomach drops a bit before he remembers that he had told the man that he hunted on the weekends. “I prefer fishing but I have been out hunting with some friends before.” 

“Oh, yeah, I like fishing too.” Suddenly, Dean recalls that dream that Cas had crashed in the early days of their acquaintance, right before getting sent back to bible camp and that whole thing with Jimmy and his family. He’d been in his ‘happy place’ – basking in the calm peacefulness of a world without monsters, a world where the only thing Dean had to worry about was whether or not he was going to feel that familiar tug on his line or not. He’s forgiven Cas for all that shit that happened during the apocalypse, but for some reason Dean can’t help but let the memory of that interrupted dream piss him off even more right now. 

Why does his life have to be like this? Why do his weekend plans have to revolve around stopping asshole demons from opening Purgatory? Why did he have to go and fall in love with an angel with apparent commitment issues? Why couldn’t he just meet a nice person and settle down – spend his weekends camping and fishing, or snuggled up on the couch watching football with strong arms holding him close? 

With that thought in mind, and a blood alcohol level way above the legal limit, Dean places his hand on Steve’s thigh and asks, “Do you want to get out of here?” The man looks unsure, but as Dean proceeds to slide his hand further up the man’s thigh, he starts to look more and more convinced. Dean glances down when he feels Steve’s hand land on his own, feeling the man gently caressing his skin. When he looks back up to give him an encouraging smile, Dean freezes, then guiltily snatches his hand back. 

A pair of dark blue eyes are staring back at him from over Steve’s shoulder, the glittering fierceness boring right through to Dean’s very soul. “Umm…” Dean’s in full-on panic mode now. He’s seen Cas’s smite-face before but he’s never seen it aimed on himself quite like this. 

Dean stumbles to his feet, knocking into the stool once he’s upright and frantically searching for a way out of his situation. He knows he’s screwed though – even if he weren’t drunk there’d be no way to escape this particular pissed-off angel. So instead he tries damage control…

“Hey Cas, what are you doing here?” He knows it’s a weak attempt at best – there’s no way that Cas didn’t see Dean’s hand on Steve’s thigh, he probably heard Dean proposition the guy too. Steve twists in his seat to see who Dean is talking to, which shifts the angel’s attention away from Dean and onto Steve. And shit, Dean’s seen that look on his face before – seen it aimed at another Steve as a matter of fact. Dean needs to shift Cas’s attention away from the other man before things get out of hand and Steve loses a couple of eyes. 

So he flashes Steve an apologetic look and grabs Cas by the arm, towing the glaring man down to the other end of the bar. “What are you doing here, Cas? I thought you had somewhere more important to be.” Yes, the bitterness is still there, but Dean figures that offense is the best form of defense so maybe if he shifts the blame right off the bat he may get out of this with his balls intact. 

“Your brother called me.” Sam, what an asshole! Bitch needs to mind his own fucking business. “He said that you were intoxicated and in need of my assistance.” He lets his gaze slip from Dean’s face to Steve’s form further down the bar. “I see now that that may not have been entirely accurate. You seem to be doing perfectly well all on your own.” 

“Yeah, well, and what if I am? What do you care where I go or what I do? It’s not like you want to spend time with me. We finally get a chance to spend the whole night together and you’re gone without so much as a goodbye kiss. _You_ may not want me anymore, Cas, but that doesn’t mean that someone else won’t. I bet I can get Steve there to fuck me if you won’t.” Crap. Apparently Drunk Dean has zero filter on his fucking mouth. This is so not how he wanted this conversation to go down. 

Instead of hurt though, Cas just looks pissed. Perhaps mentioning someone else fucking him wasn’t the best course of action. He thinks Cas might actually punch him, but instead the angel grabs him by the front of his vest and shoves him up against the bar, pushing a knee between his legs and thrusting his burgeoning erection into Dean’s hip. 

“No one else will be fucking you, Dean. You’re _mine_ … don’t you remember?” Dean can feel Cas’s hot breath on his face and it makes him weak in the knees – the possessive display only furthering the swirling feeling in Dean’s head. He only has eyes for Cas at this point so he doesn’t notice Steve getting up from his place down the bar and approaching them. 

“Hey! Get off him!” he shouts at Cas before saying, in a softer voice to Dean, “Is this guy bothering you, Dean?” Cas actually growls before turning around to face the interloper, but before Cas can smite the guy, Sam intercedes – stepping in between the two scowling men and getting Steve’s attention.

“Hey! Sorry about Cas here, my brother-in-law can get a bit twitchy. He’s perfectly harmless though, I promise.” 

Steve gets a confused look on his face and says, “Brother-in-law?” but that’s all Dean notices before he’s being pulled toward the front of the bar and out into the parking lot by a fuming celestial being. Once they’re out in the chill air of early evening and away from the crowds, Cas rounds on Dean and places a bruising kiss to the Hunter’s unresisting lips. 

When Dean opens his eyes again they’re no longer standing in the parking lot of Borrowed Bucks. Instead, they’re alone inside what appears to be a sort of cabin. The walls are a mixture of wooden logs and river rocks. There’s a roaring fire in a large rustic fireplace with an actual cast-iron cauldron hanging over the flames. The bed is a wooden four-poster with a king-sized mattress and south-western style blankets. There’s a Texas Star hanging on the wall over the bed and he can see through the windows that the sun is just starting to dip low in the sky, so they’re probably still in the same time-zone, or at least near enough. 

Dean’s no longer drunk though. In fact, he’s completely stone-cold sober now, and he suspects that Cas took the opportunity of doing a spit-shine on his liver when he zapped them to wherever it is they are now. 

Before he can ask any questions though, Cas plucks the hat from his head and tosses it onto a nearby rocking chair, and then leans in to kiss him passionately while backing him up until the backs of Dean’s knees hit the edge of the bed. He sits down suddenly and then lies on his back when Cas forcefully pushes his chest. The angel flings off his trench coat and suit jacket before quickly straddling Dean’s hips on the bed. 

“You are mine, Dean… _Mine_. Just because I can’t be with you all the time doesn’t make that any less true.” He takes the time to unbutton Dean’s vest but seemingly fed up by the slow progress he simply rips open Dean’s shirt, sending buttons pinging in every direction. He tears the garments down and off Dean’s arms and then roughly pulls up Dean’s undershirt, ripping it off over his head and tossing all three pieces to the floor. 

He wastes no time in bending down and taking a nipple into his mouth – sucking and biting at the pebbled flesh while pinching the other one between his fingers. By now, Cas knows exactly what Dean likes and having his nipples played with is pretty high on that list. He’s pretty brutal about it too – skirting the edge of pleasure and ending up just on the other side of pain and over-sensitivity. Cas switches sides with his mouth, laving over the abused nub before giving it the same kind of attention that the other had gotten. 

He goes about it longer than he ever has before and Dean can already tell that this is not going to be a gentle bout of lovemaking. Cas is angry and it shows, attacking Dean’s chest with teeth and tongue until Dean is gasping and pulling Cas’s head away. He goes willingly, moving only slightly though so that he can suck a dark mark onto Dean’s pec, then moving up to place another on his collarbone. Dean’s chest is already covered with fading bruises but he knows that Cas likes to make a few new ones every time that they’re together. The angel’s possessive streak is a mile wide when it comes to Dean – this isn’t news to the Hunter. 

Dean places his hands on the sides of Cas’s head, gently pulling the angel up so that he can kiss him. While he does that, he starts working on removing Cas’s clothing – first slipping the blue tie from around his neck and then popping open the buttons of his shirt. When he’s done, Cas sits back up and removes his shirt, letting it fall to join Dean’s on the floor. 

Dean flashes his trademark smirk but it doesn’t have the intended effect. Instead, Cas narrows his eyes and cocks his head to the side, a calculating look this time instead of the usual adorable confusion. 

“Do you think this is a game, Dean?” Dean loses the smirk, a look of trepidation replacing it in his expression. “I suppose I’ll need to remind you how I said that I’d be _upset_ if you were to share yourself with anyone who wasn’t me… won’t I, Dean?” He punctuates this last with a ruthless pinch to Dean’s already sensitive nipple, causing Dean to let out an embarrassing whimper at the feeling. 

“ _Fuck…_ Cas, I remember.” The intense sensation caused by the pinching sends a jolt of pleasure strait to Dean’s dick, causing the Hunter to buck his hips up into Cas’s and moan at the resulting friction. Dean closes his eyes to revel in the feeling but opens them again when he hears Cas speaking.

“I don’t think you do, Dean – otherwise I wouldn’t have found you with your hands all over that man’s lap, asking him to leave with you.” Shit. Cas had heard everything. Not that Dean hadn’t known this already, but the predatory look on the angel’s face is pretty fucking daunting. He has no hope of talking his way out of this situation, especially because he doesn’t actually want to turn this into a real argument. He’d rather let Cas take out his frustrations on him sexually and laugh the whole thing off, for now at least. He’d wanted to put all the cards on the table earlier, but now that he knows that Cas hasn’t really lost interest, Dean is perfectly happy sweeping his insecurities under the rug to deal with another day. 

“Well then, I guess you’ll just have to remind me.” He barely gets the chance to resume his smirking expression before Cas’s lips are wiping that look right off his face. The angel does his best to devour Dean – kissing him relentlessly and fucking his tongue into the Hunter’s mouth over and over until Dean can barely breathe. Cas pulls back before Dean’s in any actual danger though, sliding his body back and off of Dean so that he’s standing.

He removes Dean’s weapons and then yanks at the fastening to Dean’s pants, not bothering trying to figure out how they’re put together, just ripping them open and pulling them down along with his underwear. When they’re down to his calves, Cas yanks the boots off as well, finally pulling all of the offending garments off completely. 

He kicks his own shoes off and then reaches down to pull Dean up to a sitting position by the back of his neck, kissing him thoroughly once he’s there. He pauses to pull a small bottle of lube out of his pocket and tosses it onto the bed, but then straightens up completely and guides Dean’s lips to his own chest, letting his arms hang loosely at his sides after Dean takes the hint and starts placing kisses to the angel’s chest. 

He licks and sucks and nibbles all over while he uses his hands to unbuckle Cas’s belt. The button and zipper is next to go as Dean slides his hands in the waistband and slowly drags Cas’s pants and boxers over his hips and down his muscular thighs. 

Cas may know what Dean likes, but Dean knows what Cas likes as well, so he pushes the angel’s hips back a bit to leave enough room between their bodies for Dean to slip off the bed and drop to his knees. He removes Cas’s clothing completely and then looks up through his lashes to see the angel staring back at him, eyes hooded. 

Dean’s mouth has started to water at the sight of Cas’s leaking dick so he takes advantage of the extra saliva and licks all around the hardened length before taking it into his mouth completely, getting it nice and sloppy, just how he knows Cas likes. 

He brings his hands up to grab a tight hold on Cas’s ass and the angel rests his hands on Dean’s head, gripping the short strands of his hair the best he can. It’s not a tight hold, he simply rests his hands there, letting them follow the tip and bob of Dean’s head as he licks and sucks his way up and down. Dean’s not surprised at the gentleness, Cas is usually pretty careful with Dean while he sucks him off – even when he’s fucking Dean’s face he takes it pretty slow, never choking him or pulling too hard on his hair. 

What does surprise him though is that Cas has yet to start talking. Dean’s learned that while in the throes of sexual pleasure Cas usually can’t manage to keep his mouth shut for long. Whether it’s English, Enochian, or some other random language that the angel finds himself slipping into, Cas is loquacious, and loud for that matter. So the silent treatment right now is weird, and unsettling to say the least. 

When he does finally talk, his voice is calm, soundly merely curious – like they’re passing time sipping lemonade on a porch swing and Dean doesn’t have Cas’s hard cock halfway down his throat. “Were you trying to make me jealous, Dean? Flirting with that man and propositioning him?” Dean feels a prickle of unease at the back of his neck while Cas continues. “I don’t see how you could have been because you didn’t know I was there… did you, Dean?” 

Dean has no idea how to answer these questions so he just continues to swallow Cas down, moving one hand back around to play with his balls while he continues to avoid looking Cas in the eye.

“What? You don’t have a smart answer for that one?” Damn. Distraction doesn’t seem to be working. “Look at me, Dean.” Dean begins to pull off of Cas’s cock but halts his movement when Cas tugs on his hair and speaks again. “Did I tell you to stop?” 

Fuck… Dean knows that he should be feeling some semblance of shame here – he’s on his knees being bossed around and reprimanded like a child – all while naked, with a dick in his mouth. But he just doesn’t. He feels guilt for his almost-infidelity; he feels somewhat pathetic for his neediness; but most of all he just feels good… euphoric even. If anyone else were to try to tell Dean what to do he’d gladly tell them to go fuck themselves. But when he’s with Cas and sex is on the table (or the bed, or a wall, or the back seat of the Impala, etc.) Dean just loves it. He lets all the stress and responsibility that normally weighs him down like a ton of bricks just fall away… for a little while at least. 

So whatever it is that Cas wants from him here, Dean is going to try his best to give it to him. 

Doubling down on his efforts to give the best blow job ever, Dean looks up to see Cas smirking down at him, perfectly playing up the part of vengeful god to Dean’s disobedient follower. 

“That’s better, Dean. I expect you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Dean tries his best to nod while he continues to watch Cas’s face, doing his best to let the angel know that he understands and that he’ll try to be good. “I’m going to use your mouth now, Dean…” Cas says. Dean knows that this means that Cas is going to fuck his face now so he stills his motions, placing his hands on Cas’s perfect hips. “…Because your mouth is mine to use – Only mine, Dean. Let this be a reminder.” 

Cas tightens his hold on Dean’s head, forgoing the grip on his hair to engulf Dean’s skull in the cradle of his large, strong hands. He moves forward as well, crowding into Dean’s space so that the Hunter is wedged between the angel and the bed. 

He starts out slowly, thrusting gently and shallowly into Dean’s waiting mouth, just like he’s done before. Cas is still being abnormally quiet though. It’s not that he’s not enjoying the attention… at least Dean doesn’t think that’s what’s going on here. It’s more like Cas is working toward a goal – concentrating hard on what’s to come instead of relishing the moment like he usually does. Then, suddenly, Cas is pulling back – pulling out of Dean’s mouth completely and focusing his laser-beam gaze on Dean’s confused face. 

“I’m going to get a little rougher now, Dean. Do you think you can handle that?” Dean scoffs at the implication that he may be some sort of delicate flower that needs to be handled with kid gloves. For Christ’s sake, he’s been tortured and killed more times than he can count – a little bit of manhandling isn’t going to fucking break him. “I’m serious, Dean. I need your answer.” He punctuates his statement with a sharp tug on Dean’s hair, pulling his head back and holding it in place so that his deep-blue gaze is locked on Dean’s. 

Swallowing audibly, Dean breathes out, “Yes, Cas. I can handle it.” His voice is husky, already affected by the action his mouth has seen up to this point. 

“Good… That’s good.” Cas’s look is calculating, a predator zeroing in on its prey. “Are you ready?” Dean nods his head and opens his mouth, not taking his eyes off Cas’s face. Instead of pushing in immediately though, Cas bends down and presses a forceful kiss to Dean’s lips, thrusting his tongue into Dean’s open mouth. 

Dean doesn’t know how, or why, but the taste of Cas’s mouth always manages to take him a bit by surprise. The angel doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink, and Dean’s pretty sure that he doesn’t brush his teeth or use mouthwash or anything like that – but he always tastes _clean_. It’s not exactly minty, and it sure isn’t cold, but every time Dean feels a very specific kind of rush. As ridiculous as it sounds, he almost feels like one of those people in the York Peppermint Patty commercials that he used to see on all those shitty motel televisions as a kid. Crisp, cool waters, wintry mountain air – all of that, with the additional sensation of a spike of pure lust that sends a flaming heat coursing through his body. _Icy Hot for the soul_ , Dean thinks giddily to himself. 

As suddenly as it had begun, Cas breaks the kiss and pulls back. Straightening up, he hooks a thumb into Dean’s mouth and pushes down on his bottom teeth, opening him up enough to slip the head of his cock inside. The transition is abrupt but Dean is prepared for it; he tries to relax his throat and focus on breathing through his nose as Cas thrusts in and out. 

“Mmm… _yes, Dean_ … very good.” Cas falls into a solid rhythm – two quick, sharp, shallow thrusts followed by a long, slow, deep one that stops just short of Dean’s gag reflex. He’s holding Dean’s head immobile – his left hand cradling the back of Dean’s head while his right grips under his chin, long fingers splayed along his throat. In any other situation, with any other person, the confinement would be unpleasant, to say the least. But here, now, with Cas’s hands holding him, and Cas’s voice showering Dean with words of praise and sounds of his pleasure, Dean is comfortable. He feels needed, useful, loved. “You’re perfect for me, Dean… _only_ for me.”

Dean can’t help but preen inwardly at the possessive growl in Cas’s voice. His cock throbs in response as well and Dean does his best to moan around the hard cock that’s filling him up. The vibration seems to affect Cas as well – the angel moans loudly, his head falling back to revel in the feeling. _Fuck_ , Dean thinks, _that’s so fucking hot_. Making his angel feel good is such a big fucking turn-on. His own cock is hard and leaking, aching to be touched. So he reaches down and strokes himself, his grip tight, but slow so that he can prolong the pleasure. 

“Does that feel good, hm? Fucking into that tight fist of yours? Are you going to make yourself come, Dean?” Dean hums in the affirmative, quickening the pace of his hand and thrusting his hips. Cas’s loud moans and choked off exclamations, which punctuate the stuttering thrust of his hips, tells Dean that he’s close as well. Instead of encouraging Dean to finish himself off though, Cas tugs at Dean’s hair to get his undivided attention. When he has it, he says, “Don’t come.” His voice is stern, brooking no argument, so Dean stops his stroking and grips the base of his dick roughly to stave of his orgasm. “Your pleasure is mine as well. You’ll come _when_ … _oh, fuck_ … and _if_ … _mmm, yes_ … I allow it.” 

Dean feels what would be a whimper, if his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, try to escape at Cas’s words. He grasps tightly to Cas’s hips so that he won’t be tempted to jerk himself off. He wants to come so bad, but it can wait – his desire to please Cas eclipsing everything else. 

“I can’t always be by your side, Dean. But you need to be reminded that you’re mine. _I_ need to remind you… I need to remind _everyone_.” Cas’s words sound a bit ominous, but Dean trusts him – trusts that Cas won’t hurt him. Suddenly, Cas pulls his dick out of Dean’s mouth with his right hand and braces himself on Dean’s shoulder with his left, then commands, “Close your eyes!” 

Dean does as he’s told and in the next moment the warm, wet feel of Cas’s come splashing on his lips and across his chest is overshadowed by a hot, burning sensation where Cas’s hand is covering his shoulder. It hurts, there’s no doubt about that, but the pain is quickly soothed away by the tingling warmth of Cas’s healing touch. 

Dean risks a peek and looks up at Cas, feeling almost as dazed as the angel looks. Next, he turns his head and looks at his shoulder. The raised red mark of Cas’s handprint – so familiar, yet still so new – sends a shiver down his spine. He shifts his gaze back to Cas’s face and shivers again at the dark, lust-filled look in his expression. “Look at you… You are so perfect… So beautiful…” 

Dean’s eyes flutter closed and Cas leans forward to cup Dean’s jaw, using his thumb to rub his come into the flesh of Dean’s lips. After a few moments, Dean sucks the digit into his mouth and licks it clean. The gesture seems to spur Cas into action and he leans down to kiss Dean thoroughly, pausing only to lick the rest of his come off Dean’s face. He leaves the remainder of the mess on Dean’s chest, though he reaches a hand down to smear the sticky fluid around, rubbing in circles as if he could make it become a permanent fixture in Dean’s skin. 

Dean feels a bit like he’s floating but he’s soon brought back down to Earth when he feels Cas’s hand on his dick, reminding him suddenly that he hasn’t come yet – his cock is hard and responsive, and Cas’s hand is a Godsend... literally and figuratively. 

He expects Cas to finish him off, right then and there. But instead he releases his hold on Dean’s cock in favor of slinging an arm around his waist and hauling him to his feet. Dean wobbles a bit on his embarrassingly shaky legs, but Cas’s hold is firm – the heavy weight of the Hunter’s well-muscled body barely a strain on the angel’s inhuman strength. 

“There you go,” Cas says. And with one last kiss he spins Dean around, pushing him roughly so that he’s bent over the bed – his hard cock trapped between his body and the mattress. The rough blanket is uncomfortable on the super-sensitive skin of his exposed cock-head, but the pressure is soon relieved when Cas grasps him by the hips and pulls his ass further up into the air. He kicks Dean’s feet further apart as well, exposing Dean’s hole to the warm air of the cabin. “I know that you want to come, but you’re just going to have to wait a little bit longer… I’m not done with you yet.”

Cas’s arm snakes around the side of Dean’s body, looking for and encountering the small bottle of lube that he had tossed there earlier. When he stands up again Dean hears the click of the bottle’s cap and then a moment later he tenses slightly when Cas’s wet finger circles his entrance. He waits for Dean to relax again, using his dry hand to caress Dean’s cheeks and the back of his thighs, gently groping and tugging on his sensitive skin. 

When Dean is sufficiently relaxed, head down on the bed and moaning lowly as he undulates his hips under Cas’s feather-light ministrations, Cas dips one finger inside, past his him to massage the smooth muscle. He quickly works his way up to two fingers before leaning down and biting the meat of Dean’s ass and sucking a mark as well. Dean involuntarily clenches at the feeling and Cas moans at the tightening around his fingers. 

He continues to lick and nibble until Dean relaxes again and slips a third finger in when the compression has let up. The stretch never seems to burn when he’s with Cas – Dean’s pretty sure that the angel uses his healing touch whenever penetration is involved. But just the thought of Cas touching him this way gets Dean all tingly so it’s hard to tell. 

“That’s it, my love… almost there.” Dean moans loudly at the endearment – it’s the only one Cas uses, and he only uses it during sex, but it sure is a doozy. It always cuts right through whatever semblance of gruff exterior that Dean may still be clinging to, to sufficiently turn the Hunter into a contradictory pile of lust-filled goo. He has to really concentrate so as not to come on the spot while simultaneously breaking down into a weeping mess. So to avoid that scenario, Dean bites his lip and whimpers while clenching his fists into the colorful blanket. 

A couple of minutes later, Dean feels all three of Cas’s fingers slip free and Dean is left feeling bereft as the angel walks away. He doesn’t go far though, only around to the other side of the bed. Dean looks at him, confused, while he lies down on his back on the bed – his shoulders and head propped up by the pillows. Dean just stays where he is, waiting for instruction, until Cas smiles and nods his head at a point somewhere over Dean’s shoulder.

“Put them on. I know you want to.” Dean looks over his shoulder and notices the rocking chair. He sees his cowboy hat and boots and recalls the plans that he had had at the beginning of this whole rollercoaster of a day. Never one to pass up the opportunity for a little sexy dress-up, Dean hops up and pulls on the boots before slipping on the hat, swiping his thumb and forefinger across the brim just like he had this afternoon. 

“Go ahead, Cas… Make my day.” Cas’s smile turns into a feral grin and he nods Dean over to his side of the bed.

“Mosey on over here and I will, Pilgrim.” Squealing internally at Cas’s understanding of the western movie references (and where the Hell did he get that from?), Dean saunters over to where Cas is lying – swaggering more than he ever has before. 

“Howdy,” he says when he comes to a stop, his hands resting on his hips, thumbs hooked into his imaginary belt loops. Cas finishes up spreading lube around his renewed erection and then slaps his thighs. 

“Ride ‘em, Cowboy.” Dean practically pounces on the angel’s lap, being careful not to injure any sensitive areas. Tipping the brim of his hat up a bit, he leans down to give Cas a very thorough kiss. Then he reaches back behind himself while he does so, grasping Cas’s hard cock and shifting his hips to position himself over the fat head. He breaks the kiss once he’s in place and sits back up, sinking down almost immediately. 

Letting out nearly identical moans, Cas grips Dean’s hips as Dean sets up a rhythm – starting out at a trot but quickly working his way up to a canter. He’d been disappointed when Sam had been the one who got to ride the real horse back in Sunrise, but this is most definitely making up for that. 

“Is that all you’ve got, Cowboy?” Spurred on by Cas’s taunting, Dean moves into a full-on gallop, riding the angel fast and hard, his breathing labored while his heart beats quick and heavy in his chest. The strenuous exercise, coupled with the heat of the fire in the cozy room has them both covered in sweat in almost no time at all. Cas tightens his grip on Dean’s hip to compensate for the slipperiness of the sweat and then thrusts his hips up sharply to meet Dean’s downward motions. 

He throws his head back into the pillows and starts speaking harshly in what Dean’s pretty sure is Spanish. He can pick out a few words here and there but really it doesn’t even matter what he’s saying – Dean doesn’t like to admit it out loud but he’s always had a thing for listening to people speak in languages other than English. Even long before he and Cas got together, Dean had to think hard about Wendigos or Bobby in a bikini to stop from popping a boner every time the angel spoke in Enochian for some incantation or other. And now that Dean knows that Cas is a sex-induced polyglot, his language kink is out in full-force. 

“Fuck, yes, baby! Keep talkin’, I’m almost there!” Cas snaps his gaze to Dean’s face and abruptly raises himself to a sitting position. He kisses Dean once on the mouth and then grabs his ass in both hands, slowing their pace while he attacks Dean’s neck and chest with his hungry mouth.

“Te amo, vaquero. Me encanta besar su piel (he places a sweet kiss to Dean’s chest)… Y tocarse tu cara (then a soft caress to his cheek)… Pero sobre todo, me encanta coger tu culo apretado mientras gritas mi nombre.” This last is punctuated by a sharp thrust of Cas’s dick directly to Dean’s prostate, causing the overwhelmed Hunter to shout in ecstasy while he throws his head back. 

“Cas! Holy _fuck_ , angel! Jesus fucking Christ!” At that, Cas grabs hold of Dean’s cock, stroking him tightly, exactly how he knows Dean likes it. 

“Venga ahora, vaquero... venga por mi, mi amor.” Whatever Cas says is exactly what Dean needs to hear, regardless of whether he understands it or not. His orgasm hits him like a hoof to the gut and he paints both their chests in his sticky come. Cas comes as well – the angel’s hot spend filling Dean up in the most perfect way. “Fuck! Dean! _Fuck…_ ” The movement of his hips slowly stutters to a stop and Dean leans forward to place a languid kiss to Cas’s unresisting mouth. 

After a few moments, Dean drops his head to Cas’s shoulder, completely exhausted. Cas lets him relax, taking the time to run a soothing hand up and down Dean’s sweat-soaked back. It’s not until he feels the hand move to rest on his right shoulder that he remembers the new handprint. 

“You know, it’s usually the cattle that get branded, Cas… not the cowboys.” He lifts his head to look Cas in the eye, expecting the angel to be sporting a guilty expression. To his surprise though, Cas looks nothing but proud of his permanent mark of possession. He fondles the physical declaration of ownership, and Dean feels Cas’s spent cock give a valiant twitch in the confines of his ass. “Possessive much, Cas?” 

“Very much,” Cas responds immediately, a sudden hard gleam in the angel’s eyes as he locks on Dean’s gaze. “Let this be a reminder to all that _you_ are _mine_ , Dean.” Dean can’t help but roll his eyes at the super-serious, jealous boyfriend act, even though the thought of belonging to Cas makes a warm feeling, that has nothing to do with the crackling fire, circulate throughout the Hunter’s chest. He knows it’s not something that healthy relationships thrive on, but when have the words ‘healthy’ and ‘relationship’ ever been used to describe any aspect of Dean’s life before? Never… that’s when. 

“Broken record, Cas.” He takes off the cowboy hat, tossing it back over onto the rocking chair, and braces himself on one knee in preparation to swing one leg over and off of Cas’s body. He’s stopped by a tight grip on his waist though – Cas’s hand guiding his face back to look at him. 

“I’ll say it as many times, and in as many ways as I deem necessary until you and everyone around you understands and accepts it to be a true and unequivocal fact. Do you understand?”

“Loud and clear.” His voice comes out much softer and less sure than he had intended, but the angel can be formidable when he’s determined – Dean knows this better than anyone. 

“Very good, Dean. I’m glad we’re in agreement.” Cas releases his hold and Dean goes to move again, but he halts his movement when he hears the sucking sound of release that their chests make as a result of the sweat and come mixture that’s covering the front of their bodies. 

“Um… Cas? Do you think you could…” He gestures between them and Cas seems to understand – rendering them both clean and dry with a simple touch. “Thanks,” he says, and places a quick kiss to his beloved’s (beloved? Eh, closer… but not quite) lips. 

He slips off of Cas’s lap and straightens up to a standing position, stretching his arms high up over his head while he glances out the window to see the sun dipping very low in the sky, the beautiful reds and oranges and pinks of the sunset blazing across the wide-open sky. 

“I have an idea,” he says with a mischievous smirk, and Cas tips his head to the side a bit – his squinty-bird impression doing its best to ask Dean to elaborate. “Come on, Bronco Billy! Up on your feet!” Cas complies with alacrity, seemingly spurred on by Dean’s enthusiasm. He yanks the blanket off the bed and bundles it up in his arms before grabbing Cas by the hand and leading him to the front door. He then peeks his head out the door and looks from side to side, eventually spying exactly what he’s looking for. “Jackpot!”

They’re both still naked (not counting the cowboy boots that Dean is still wearing), but wherever they are, they’re in the middle of nowhere. There isn’t a soul in sight so Dean exits the cabin completely and makes his way over to the old porch swing – draping the large blanket around his shoulders and beckoning Cas to join him. 

He does as he’s bid and when he’s settled, Dean surrounds them both with the heavy textile, cocooning them in a pocket of warmth and snuggling into Cas’s side. Their legs are tangled and Cas’s strong arms are cuddling him close while they sway gently back and forth and gaze out into the breathtaking beauty of the surrounding landscape. There’s a lake not far from the cabin, and a smallish mountain range in the distance, but it won’t be long before the sun goes down completely and swallows the lot of it in an all-encompassing darkness. They’ll soon have to return to their world of demons and angels… monsters and men… pain and sorrow. But until then Dean will soak up the warmth of this sunset and the heat of his soulmate’s (soulmate? Yes… that’s the one, Dean’s sure of it) body pressed up against his.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish translations (forgive me if anything isn't 100% correct, my Spanish is pretty remedial) 
> 
> Te amo, vaquero. Me encanta besar su piel... - I love you, cowboy. I love kissing your skin...
> 
> Y tocarse tu cara... - And touching your face...
> 
> Pero sobre todo, me encanta coger tu culo apretado mientras gritas mi nombre. - But above all, I love to fuck your tight ass while you scream my name. 
> 
> Venga ahora, vaquero... venga por mi, mi amor. - Come now, cowboy... come for me, my love.


End file.
